Sorry
by TheWinterCountess
Summary: For raykel455. Sorry that it's so late.


Long time no see. :) I'm reaaally sorry that I haven't posted in a while, but like I told a few of you through PM, I had some good news from a school that I applied to in January. I got accepted to MSA, an art school, which is a couple of hours from where I live, and I've been going back and forth to set up classes. I meant to post this three weeks ago, but never got around to it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story. I feel a little rusty, but I think I like the concept of this story more so than the others. I'm actually kind of surprised that no one else has attempted this kind of story yet. I'm pretty sure that this is the alternate ending that most of us would've liked to see at the close of the second season, and I'm pretty sure Vera's not coming back, or at least not for Victor, anyway, in season three. Okay, babbling over. ONWARD, MY LORDS, TO THE STORY.

_Knock Knock_

Victor looked up from his desk at the sound of the downstairs noise.

_Knock Knock Knock_

He stood from his chair in a huff and made his way around the desk in a haste.

__

Victor flew down the stairs, now irritated, and quickly reached the front door, angrily pulling it open.

"_Yes_, what is so urgent that you must- "

Victor abruptly stopped and stared blankly at the knee-length dress clad person now stepping off of the door-step and into the threshold of Anubis House.

"Hello, Victor," the blonde said as her bob swung in the wind amendment.

"Hello, Vera," he replied, not missing a beat.

Vera walked further into the foyer, pulling off her dainty, white summer gloves as she went.

"I suppose you're here for the rest of your things," Victor said.

They both knew the reason she was here; it hardly needed to be stated, but Victor was trying to distract himself from the fact that he found Vera to be looking better than before she had left.

"Yes," she answered coolly, looking in every direction that wasn't at Victor.

Vera, herself, had been feeling better as of late. With Rufus' disappearance came the return of her unfailing freedom to once again do whatever she wanted. She'd decided to take the summer off before she even began to search for work, if only to find herself again.

"Yes," Victor said awkwardly, nervously doing every anxious habit short of twiddling his thumbs.

"Well…," Vera goaded, waving her hand in the direction of the stairs.

"Yes?"

"My things, Victor," Vera said, exasperated, "my things!"

"Yes!" he exclaimed, attempting to shake off his apprehension, "I'll take you upstairs. Your things are still in the attic."

Victor led her to the stairs, and with a gentlemanly nod, he let Vera lead their trek up the stairs and to the attic. Two flights of stairs and an awkward silence later, they had finally reached the apex of the attic stairs and were standing at an old wooden door.

Vera slowly pushed it open, and, with a deafening creak, her old bedroom came into view, covered in a relatively new coat of dust.

Victor stood off to the side, as to not be in the her way, and observed.

Vera walked across the room and sat on the bed, disturbing a sheet of dust that flew into the air the moment she sat down.

She sighed with a wry smile and said, "I forgot how bad the dust was up here."

The dust, it seemed, wasn't the only thing that had resurfaced in the attic.

Memories flooded back in Vera's mind from when her business with Rufus was still unknown, when things between Victor and her were, in her opinion, seamlessly content and secure. She felt an inkling to have it back.

As Victor watched her pack the remains of her wardrobe with a struggle, he offered his assistance, which she gladly accepted.

Vera scooped up an arm-full of sweaters, cardigans, and the like, and put them in the awaiting garment bags that had been draped over her armoire.

"Vera," Victor said breathlessly as he heaved the bags to wait for removal by the attic door, "why is it that women have _so numerous _an amount of clothes?"

Vera let a mite of a laugh slip and replied, "Because how would it look if we wore the same thing every day or even every other day? "

Victor shook his head and continued to transport the garment bags to the other side of the room.

"Besides," Vera added, "I don't have _that _many clothes."

"Mhmm…" Victor said as he dropped the fourth bag by the door with a _thud._

"It is my humble opinion, though." he said, walking back across the room, "that you would look superb in anything you wore."

Vera smiled and felt the familiar creeping sensation of a blush that she had once enjoyed. Something in her mind, however, felt conflicted. Her smile faltered, and she turned to face Victor.

"How did so much change?" she asked him despondently, "We used to be so much closer, so much more _intimate_, for lack of a better phrase."

Victor gazed out of the stained-glass window, lost in thought and unwilling to answer. His face fell into a mien of stone, and his posture stiffened rigid.

Vera waited in anticipation for an outburst of ire and indignation or for at least _some_ kind of emotion.

None came.

"Victor, please," Vera pleaded as she joined him by the window, "say something."

There was a short respite as the sun's midday rays poured through the window.

"There isn't much to say," Victor finally ceded dismally, "Your actions spoke for themselves."

Distraughtly grasping his hands, Vera said, "My actions were contemptibly and disgracefully vile."

"Yes."

"I am really and truly sorry, though, Victor," she continued tearfully, "and I know that just a mere act of contrition is nowhere near enough, but I'm not sure what else there is to do to reconcile all that I've done."

Victor turned and at last looked Vera directly in her cerulean orbs.

"You could have told me," he said, "I might have been able to- "

"You would not have been able to do anything," Vera interrupted, through tears, "Rufus would have killed you the instant he thought you were in the way!"

"You should have told me regardless!" Victor said heatedly, turning away, "How could you not have told me that you worked for Rufus Zeno?"

"How could you not have told me the effects of the Elixir, that you are well past one hundred years old?" Vera retorted offhandedly.

Victor looked up sharply with an inquiring glimmer in his eyes.

Before Victor could even voice the words, Vera answered, "I know, Victor."

"But how?" he inquired, "Surely Rufus wouldn't have said anything."

"Of course not."

"Then how- ?"

"I am an educated woman," she said, a bit put out, "It was hardly difficult to decipher."

When Vera saw that still he had not made the mental connection, she continued, "I have worked for some of the most dangerous men in England, retrieving information whilst melding into wherever I was needed, unobtrusively. I have conducted hundreds of interrogations and have spent most of my life honing my skill to do all of these things. This enterprise was no different; the only mistake I have ever made was letting this relationship come into being."

"Well," Victor sighed, now seeming to understand "it's nice to know that you think we're a mistake."

"_I _wasn't the one who wanted to leave!" Vera ardently cried.

"Yes?"

"From the very beginning," she endured, "I wanted to stay, to keep on as we were, but _you refused."_

"_But you shouldn't have given up so easily!" Victor shouted, "How did you expect me to react? I'd just discovered that you had betrayed me, and from a text message, no less."_

_Trounced, Vera lowered her head and conceded, "I know."_

_They both sat down and once again took up the act of staring out of the window._

_Nostalgia wafted their senses into a wistful reverie as the colorful fragments of the stained-glass window glittered upon their visages. The marginal reverberation of the house's foundation settling was the only noise to hear as Vera silently rested her head on Victor's waiting shoulder._

_They both took a deep breath of the attic's fusty air, yet felt nothing save the loom of inevitable concession._

_Feeling that fate had already taken its reign, Vera tenderly asked, "So, Victor, do you forgive me?"_

_With one final sigh and a semblance of evident vast affection, Victor exhaled, "Yes."_

_A/N:_

_*POOF*_

_And a masterpiece was born!_

_Haha, I'm just very excited that I finished this story. It took me about two weeks, with all the detail-honing, and I am VERY pleased with the final product. (The story itself is 1200+ words easy.)_

_I AM EXTREMELY SORRY THAT I HAVEN'T POSTED IN TWO OR THREE MONTHS._

_I'm not sure how long it's been, but it has been a while, and I apologize, although it couldn't be helped. Anyway, my contrition can wait, and I'll avenge it with another story in a week or two, probably. Perhaps. I'm working on it right now, and hopefully I won't wait three weeks to post it._

_If you haven't recently seen the comments of the other stories or if FF didn't post it because they're asshats, my e-mail is allison_is_tickled_pink at yahoo. The same rule applies: DO NOT LAUGH AT IT. It very much fits my personality, and I've had it for a few years. Also, I've decided that since I'm on tumblr quite a bit, I'll give you that, too. My tumblr name-thing-whatever is 'wonderlandsharboringme'. I post HP stuff, LOTR stuff, HOA stuff, The Big Bang Theory stuff, The Avengers, and a bunch of other nerd shows, so it's pretty bitchin'. You can also make story requests there as well. I don't really post my stories there because my Tumblr is my personal blog, but if you get to know me, and if I decide that you aren't Sauron or Lord Voldemort, I might give sneak peaks of my stories if you want them. BUT: If you don't have a tumblr and have never visited it before, I caution you: There are idiots, morons, and creatures of Mordor that post hipster quotes and nudes. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED._

_Stay Lovely,_

_Allison Summer_


End file.
